


All You Think You Know

by kitsana_d



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-28 09:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30137370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsana_d/pseuds/kitsana_d
Summary: Elaynian Bright and James Elliot haven't seen eye-to-eye since day one. But fate (or maybe the gods) keep pushing them together. Even as they struggle with their feelings, they are called on by the gods to save the world. To do so, they must join a team of other skilled individuals, enter and reinforce the wards on a prison that is beyond comprehension, or kill a mad god before he escapes. Passions will simmer and lies and betrayal are inevitable. Who will survive, and will they be the same?





	1. James

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete rework of my other story, "And I Tell Myself It's An Elaborate Dream." Feel free to compare and let me know if there are scenes you want reworked for this new version.

They were at it again. Simon Moonhawk, the mayor of Elskar and head of the Civic Council rubbed the bridge of his nose. As usual, they were both making valid points that countered the others' argument; they were leaning across the table, shouting in each others’ faces; and looks were being exchanged around the table that said _when will these two just go to bed together and get it over with_?  
“Lady Farseer, Lord Captain Arncaster, you’ve both made your positions clear. Can we please just vote and move on?” the mayor asked. Lord Arncaster harrumphed and took his seat. Lady Farseer at least had the grace to look chagrined before seating herself. “Now then, the motion has been put forward to postpone next week's meeting due to the religious festivals. All in favor?” Every hand raised. The mayor sighed. For all his arguing against it, Arncaster still voted for it without hesitation, damn him.

As the meeting adjourned, Moonhawk called out. “Lord Arncaster, may I have a word in private?” James Elliot, Lord Captain Arncaster, cocked an eyebrow at the mayor before following.  
The mayor’s office was cluttered with papers, but the chairs were clear. He motioned for James to sit before flopping into his overstuffed chair.  
“James, we’ve known each other a long time. So I’m asking you, as a friend, knock this shit off with Bright.”  
“Sir?” James kept his voice as neutral as possible.  
“Oh, for gods’s sake, James, don’t play dumb! You just spent twenty minutes arguing against postponing and then voted for it without hesitation.”  
James shifted in his seat. “Simon, that woman would argue the sky was green-”  
“No, she wouldn’t! Elaynian hasn’t initiated an argument in months. And lately she’s been actively trying to avoid them. But you goad her into it. Why?” Simon leaned across the desk. “I could understand, in the beginning. But it’s been six years, James. You need to let this go.”  
“She has no place here, Simon. And she has no right-”  
“She was assigned, James. By royal decree. You’re going to argue with the king over whether she belongs?”  
James stood slowly, favoring his left leg. “I’m not an idiot, Simon. She’s got his favor. But damn her, why can’t she just let me make a point without a fight?”  
Simon smiled, despite himself. “Maybe you should ask her yourself. Say, over a meal?”  
“That damned pool. How much are you in for?” growled James, leaning over the desk.  
“Enough. Honestly, the two of you could disrupt the economy of the entire city simply by going to dinner.”  
James glared, then stormed from the office. He wasn’t going to waste his time with this nonsense.

His valet, Stone, was waiting for him in the antechamber.   
“Your carriage is waiting, my lord,” the man said stoically.  
James harrumphed and made his way toward the port cochere where the carriages typically waited. His leg was stiff from sitting too long, and he wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of a long ride. But his estates outside the city proper needed seeing to, so a journey of several hours on rough roads lay ahead.  
 _That damn woman_ , James thought with a snarl. Elaynian Bright, the Lady Farseer. The great negotiator who orchestrated peace between Elskar and Cindir a month after the battle at Arrankarah. She received the praise while the men who fought and died were becoming more forgotten. Nine thousand, five hundred and seventeen men died to keep the invading army from overrunning the border and laying Elskaran lands to waste. And who gets the credit? Elaynian gods-damned Bright. Her famous negotiations earned her a place on the Civic Council and as an advisor to the king. What right did she truly have to those? A piece of paper and a silver tongue did not a leader make.  
But more frustrating, no _most_ frustrating, was his growing attraction to her. He’d become used to women fawning over him in hopes of becoming the next Lady Arncaster; most of them were nothing but social climbers. And none of them stayed long. His temper had grown more fowl in the years since his forced retirement, and his leg often bothered him enough that he did not dance or attend events that would make him stand for long periods.  
Elaynian though...she fought him with ease and skill. She was reserved but not demure. She met his gaze and refused to give an inch when she so chose. His temper barely registered, or so it seemed.  
Those flashing eyes of hers. Soft blue-grey, like a stormy spring day. They might dance with laughter, but they never looked at him with mockery or disdain. Well, not undeserved disdain, anyway. And when she focused on you, it was like being caught in the sights of a predator. Maybe she was using her Sight, maybe she just wanted to unnerve you. But for James they always seemed to see straight through your facade and into your mind.  
During today’s argument, a single curl had escaped her carefully crafted hairstyle, dancing over her forehead. And with that, the fire in his fight had dimmed and died. One lone curl. The soft, pale brown twist was lodged in his brain. What did she look like with that glorious mane let loose? How would it feel to run his fingers through her locks, pulling her close and- No! He fought those thoughts that had kept him awake far too many nights. But they crept in again and again. Was she as passionate in bed as she was in an argument? How would she treat his wounded leg - as an annoyance or as something to be considerate of?  
James closed his eyes. Eventually he was going to have to deal with this, one way or another. This was going to be a very long trip with her on his mind.


	2. Elaynian

Elaynian Bright, Lady Farseer, met her secretary in the antechamber. Lucy Eldlor was waiting with several folders of papers, swiftly taking Elaynian’s notes and adding them to her stack.  
“We need to hurry if we’re to make your appointment, Lady,” Lucy said.   
“Were you able to get the last of the information from Mouse?” Elaynian asked as she strolled toward the palace.  
“Yes, Lady.” Lucy’s answer was brisk, her steps dancing. “But can we please hurry?”  
“Lucy, today is not a day I can hurry. I was exhausted before council and had another argument with Lord Arncaster. It’s getting worse.” Elaynian kept her face calm, but there was worry in her voice. “I’m going to ask his highness again if he would accept another seer. I’m afraid of what will happen if I keep pushing myself.”  
Lucy frowned. It was a close secret in the order house about the Lady Farseer’s ailment. She was losing control of her Sight. Foresight was almost beyond her control anymore, coming whether she wanted or not; and, rare gift though it was, her farsight was occurring more frequently. Those incidents were excruciatingly painful, and she had begun to see shadows of her own future. Seers could never see their own paths. It was just a part of the Sight. Those who did often went mad trying to change and anticipate what they had seen.  
“Do you think he’ll accept that?” Lucy asked cautiously.  
“Unlikely, dear. I think the only way it will happen is if I step down and let you take my place.”  
“Elaynian!” Lucy was shocked.  
“You’re more powerful than I've ever been; more organized; and you’ve got a knack with people. I’m just talented enough and stupid enough to put myself in situations that raised my profile.” Elaynian smiled. “The reason I went to Arrankarah is because I was the only one not scared to die. And now I’m in charge of far too much when it should have been you.”  
“I doubt His Majesty will agree,” Lucy said doubtfully.  
“Whether he does or not, he won’t have a choice when my condition gets worse.”

Predictably, His Majesty King Leland Vargania did not agree and insisted that Elanyian would remain his seer for the time being. But he did take her proposals about the memorial to those who fought at Arrankah and the removal of her name from documentation related to the treaty to heart. Elaynian wanted no credit for the treaty; if someone had to be named, let it be the Lady Farseer, but not her personally.   
The rest of the meeting that day, however, was torture. King Leland had called in several civic leaders, other religious leaders, and more than a few business people to finalize the plans for the next weeks’ revels. The swirling, shifting scenes of paths that may come overwhelmed Elaynian’s senses. By the end, she was barely able to hold herself upright to walk from the room. Lucy had to hail a cab to get them back to the order house.  
It had been a productive day, despite the pain. As Elaynian sat at her dressing table, her maid Betsy taking down her hair, she let her mind wander over the day. There had been the predictable argument with Lord Arncaster, of course. But today’s tussle had seemed different. He had been on a tear, arguing passionately, and then he just...stopped. That was when Mayor Moonhawk had stepped in. Something had changed in a flash, but what had it been?  
He was fascinating, in his own way, Lord Arncaster. Elaynian had been intimidated when she learned she was going to serve on the Civic Council with the leader of the only surviving unit of the battle of Arrankarah. And he was fiercer in those early days. Dark flashing eyes, sharp voiced and, at times, outright rude. She remembered clearly the night he cornered her at a social event. It had been intense and exciting, and if she was being fair, arousing. Being the sole object of his attention, the threatening purr of his voice… Even now it could send shivers through her.  
Most of his anger and frustration were justified. But when it came to her, he was rather like a terrier with cornered prey. He wouldn’t give up, and he wouldn’t let anything deter him. It was a small wonder about the bets surrounding them when he acted like that. She idly wondered if there was something to it, if he had feelings that went beyond aggravation and feigned outrage.  
Betsy ushered her into bed. Sleep would ease the pain, or so she hoped. But Elaynian knew that thinking about Lord Arncaster had just made sleeping more difficult.


	3. Mixed Blessings

The Festival of the Gods was in full swing, and Elaynian was beyond exhausted. Crowds surged in and out of the temples, leaving offerings and seeking advice. As head of the order, the Lady Farseer had to give audience to nobles and dignitaries. Many times it was simple reassurances that they weren’t going to lose everything in the coming year, but there were the occasional seekers of love and power.   
The dawn of the third day found the order house buzzing with excitement. Nepthys had appeared in their dreams and announced she was going to manifest and bless her flock by noon. Only Elaynian was immune to the excitement; Nepthys’s message to her had been very different.  
Betsy had insisted on giving Elaynian an elaborate hairstyle and extremely formal style dress to impress the Lady. The dozens of pins taming her curls were digging into her skull, amplifying her headache, and the stiff, thick lace of the high collar chafed her skin. The dark wine-over-black was striking, to be sure, but it was heavy and just shy of being too warm.  
After being dressed, Elaynian slipped down the hall to Lucy’s rooms, dragging Betsy behind her.  
“Oh, Elaynian, this is exciting!” Lucy was unusually giddy.  
“Have you ever been present for the manifestation of a god?” Elaynian asked quietly. When Lucy shook her head no, Elaynian continued. “It takes everyone differently. I wept, the first time. And I will weep this time. I need you to do something very important for me. Let Betsy make you up special. You want to show our Lady respect, yes?”  
Smiling, she left the room and headed to her study. There was a vital piece of information she needed to find immediately. She found it in the first volume, and it confirmed her worst fears.

The temple was packed. Word that Nepthys was going to appear had brought the faithful and curious alike in droves. Elaynian stood on the raised dais in the center of the room, twisting her hands together nervously.  
With a flash of light, a slight woman with dark brown skin stood before her. Nepthys smiled, revealing straight white teeth and dimples in her cheeks. Her hair was arranged in elaborate braids adorned with twinkling gems. Her white dress was paneled in brilliant shades of green and blue.  
Elaynian fell to her knees and kissed the offered hand. “My Lady,” she murmured.  
“Rise, Lady Farseer. It is time.” Nepthys’s voice was smooth, and though she spoke in a whisper, it echoed throughout the temple, clear as ringing bells.  
“As My Lady wills,” replied Elaynian, climbing to her feet. She turned to where the bulk of the seers were gathered and raised her hands. “By celestial decree of the Lady Nepthys, the divine negotiator and seeker of justice, I am no longer your Lady Farseer. Seer Lucy Eldlor, approach!”  
The chamber echoed with shocked murmurs as Lucy approached. Her face was caught between divine ecstasy and pure confusion as she looked between the two.  
“Lucy Eldlor, you are the strongest seer in two generations. Your skills as a negotiator are noted and respected,” Nepthys’s voice rang out. Elanian slid the ring of office from her hand, and held it poised before Lucy’s left forefinger. “Lucy Eldlor, do you accept the role of Lady Farseer?”  
“I do, My Lady,” Lucy croaked. Elaynian slid the ring onto her finger, then bowed and kissed it. A cheer rose from the crowd of seekers, and the general throng joined in.   
“Come receive blessings, my children,” Nepthys said with a smile. Lucy stepped forward first, receiving a kiss on each cheek. Elaynian was next. Nepthys took her face in both hands and kissed her forehead. As she did, she spoke into Elaynian’s mind. _Try not to mourn too deeply. There is more for you yet._ Elaynian bowed and moved to the back of the room. She found herself crying, despite her attempts not to. The throng called out for blessings and Nepthys granted several before vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared.

After the goddess’s departure, Elaynian went back to her rooms. No, the Lady Farseer’s rooms. She opened the wardrobe doors, wondering idly how much of this was considered her property and how much belonged to the office. She and Lucy were built somewhat similarly, but most of the items would need alterations.  
As she idly fingered the material, Betsy rushed in.   
“Oh, Lady!” she cried.  
“Betsy, no tears now.” Elaynian tried to keep her voice level. She wanted to cry too, but it would solve nothing. “Besides, I’m not your lady anymore.”  
“If you’re resigning, then I am too! I promised to follow you when you saved me.” Betsy jutted her lower jaw out, a favorite maneuver when she was feeling stubborn.   
“Then we go together. Please pack only those things that are absolutely mine. If you’re in doubt, leave it. Then pack your things. We will figure something out soon enough.” Elaynian hugged her maid. “We’ll figure it out.”  
The doors opened, and the new Lady Farseer poked her head in. Both Elaynian and Betsy bowed in respect.  
“Elaynian, if Nepthys decreed you are no longer the Lady Farseer-” Lucy began.  
“Yes. I looked after I left your rooms. I am no longer a seer, and no longer welcome in the order house or temple. My Lady has kicked me out.”  
“But why?” Betsy asked.  
“Maybe it's the issues with my sight. It hasn’t stopped them from continuing, but it forces me away and keeps me from tarnishing our reputation. Maybe I fought with Arncaster too much and she found it distasteful. Who can guess the motivations of the gods?” Elaynian sank into a chair with a sigh. “Betsy is packing our things. I’m sure I’ll figure something out soon.  
“I’m afraid that this also means all of my political appointments are now your problem, my Lady Farseer. Including advising the king. And I daresay he’ll be expecting us at the regular time.”  
It was Lucy’s turn to heave a sigh. “Civic Council as well?”  
“Yes, although I’m sure that Arncaster won’t prove much of a problem for you. He didn’t seem to have objections to the order, just to me.” Elaynian stood and stretched. “Shall we, my Lady?”


End file.
